


Science Experiment

by AgentOHare



Series: G1 Vore [2]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Fluff I guess, For Science!, Gen, Michael basically only exists to be giant robot chow, Perceptor is an overworked bean, Vore, he needs to take better care of himself, hunger, willing vore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-12
Updated: 2017-07-12
Packaged: 2018-12-01 07:52:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11481945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentOHare/pseuds/AgentOHare
Summary: After returning from the glacier mission, Michael provides assistance to a hungry scientist.





	Science Experiment

Two weeks had passed since Michael and First Aid’s near-ill fated journey out onto the icy expanses of a Canadian glacier. In order to keep his teammate warm and numb the painful hunger derived from low energon levels, First Aid carried his charge in his fuel tank. After 30 miles of continuous walking, the medic all but collapsed at the door of the science wing of the Autobot base. Luckily, the facility was nearly abandoned save for one scientist: the famed Perceptor.

Naturally, the scientist had questions.

“Wha- _First Aid?_ What in Primus’ name happened?”

“Where is your partner- Michelle, was it?”

“Why are your energon levels so low? I perceived you as the type of mech to carry emergency rations…”

“You have medical expertise. Enlighten me as to why you appear _bloated_ , despite your emaciated state.”

It took a good while to explain the situation from beginning to end. Perceptor nodded, absorbing every detail like the information sponge he was. Michael helped from the confines of the tank, adding additional detail. Eventually, the scientist assisted First Aid in removing the human from the tank, provided energon, and even promised to keep the entire ordeal a secret (Primus knows Ratchet wouldn't react well to his fellow medic acting so recklessly).

Now, Perceptor was working tirelessly on engineering a new design for the communications array. Two days had passed without sleep or refuel. The Autobots _needed_ a stable, secure and encryptable means of communication. They could not afford to have another critical transmission mined by Soundwave.

Unfortunately, the endless work was taking a toll on Perceptor’s health, and it showed. His movements were slowed, his hands shook, his optics were dark and sunken. No fuel meant no energy, so the scientist was getting weaker by the klik. His fuel tank churned piteously, begging its owner to take at least a short break to fill it. The scientist would not have it, however. If he was full, then he would be more susceptible to falling asleep. An undesirable outcome. Hunger and fatigue tugged down at Perceptor’s heavy form, threatening to make him keel over and collapse onto the shiny floor of the science wing.

A shiny floor that showed a human reflection.

“Perceptor!”

The microscope turned his head to see Michael looking up at him, optics- no, _eyes_ , filled with concern. Perceptor could see it coming: the inevitable lecture about how important it was to sleep and refuel and the dire, dire consequences of failing to do so. _As if I am not already aware of what is happening to my body,_ Perceptor thought. _But no matter. This work is of the utmost priority._

“He- _loooo!_ You there, doc? You _really_ don't look so good.”

Called it.

Perceptor vented a weary sigh, void of his normal enthusiasm. “I assure you that I am fine, youngling.”

* _groooan*_

His fuel tank begged to differ.

Michael eyed Perceptor, staring him down in a way that might have been comedic if not for the current situation.

“That sure as hell doesn't sound like fine, Percy."

“I need to _work_ , Michael!” Perceptor burst, his patience fading. The human knew that Perceptor wouldn't listen to him this way. He had to appeal to logic, his love of science. If he couldn't get Perceptor to refuel, then he could do the next best thing…

“Ok Percy, how far along are you?”

“Nearly done. I just need to finish some precision work…”

“I just thought of an experiment we could do real quick, just to take the pressure off your servos for a while. After all, you don't want them giving out in the middle of your ‘precision work’, do you?”

Now Perceptor's curiosity was piqued. “True. What do you have in mind?”

“I remember you being fascinated by… Y’know, the _incident_ a few weeks back.”

Perceptor's optics widened. “Are you insinuating what I believe you are insinuating?”

“Yeah. I am. I want you to eat me.”

Perceptor looked hesitant, so Michael quickly spoke.

“You can make firsthand observations this way. And I can alleviate that hunger of yours too, which will surely help you concentrate. One less distraction, right? Besides… I'm kind of curious. Are tanks all the same or are there differences between each bot? C’mon, it'll be a learning experience for both of us!”

Perceptor pondered for a few moments, then nodded. What was the harm in doing a little… independent research?

“Great!”

Perceptor plucked Michael off the ground and lifted him to his faceplate. After visually studying his soon-to-be meal, the scientist opened up and accepted the human morsel. Upon contact with the glossa, an explosion of alien flavors occurred, leaving Perceptor's taste sensors buzzing. He hummed in delight, salivating heavily. So far, this was the best meal he ever had, and it was only going to get better. The glossa probed and licked at Michael’s form, its owner noting that certain areas appeared to be more flavorful than others.

Perceptor suckled his treat until the flavor was all but gone. Three point two-five kliks, to be exact. It honestly felt disappointing, but the experiment was still incomplete. With this in mind, he tilted his head backwards (estimated at about 45.8 degrees) and began to swallow. He licked the final traces of flavor from his lips as Michael traveled slowly down his esophageal tube.

As the human passed through his chest, Perceptor felt a tightness build up, undoubtedly the bulge trying to pass by his spark chamber. Inside, Michael found himself slowing down to a crawl, a deafening sparkbeat thrumming by his ear. It appeared that Perceptor was having trouble getting him down at this point. The tightness in the scientist's chest was starting to become painful. Michael took his arms out from underneath his body and thrust them forward, making himself straight. _Light as a feather, stiff as a board,_ he thought as his new shape finally allowed him to pass through the narrow space by the spark chamber.

Not long after that (2.6 nanokliks by Perceptor's count) Michael was squeezed through the gastric valve into Perceptor's stomach- er, fuel tank. He landed in the pit of the tank, causing it to grumble happily. The first thing that Michael noticed was that there was a small pool of fluid where he had landed.

“Perceptor?”

“Ah, there you are. Is there a problem with the experiment?”

“No. I landed in some liquid that wasn't in First Aid’s tank. What is it?”

“That would be digestive solvent, my friend. Worry not, it cannot break down organic materials- for instance, your body and clothing. However, it is able to digest earth metals, as evidenced by _certain_ individuals, so if you have anything of value that is comprised of metal then I would advise keeping it away from the solvent.”

“Ok. How are things on your end? Feeling better?”

“Oh most _certainly,_ Michael!” Perceptor said. “You were correct. This is one less distraction, and if all goes well I will have the communications array primed and ready within a few megacycles.”

“That’s good to hear, Percy. I'm gonna just sleep in here now, and I'd advise you to do the same as soon as you're done.”

“Most assuredly, Michael.”

The next morning, First Aid entered the science wing with the intent to repair some surgical equipment, only to find Perceptor asleep at his desk, head nestled in his arms. The sound of First Aid coming in woke him, and he opened an optic sleepily.

“First Aid.” The scientist murmured. “You have _impeccable_ timing, as always. I am in need of your assistance…”

After a brief explanation of the circumstances, the medic was kind enough to assist Perceptor and remove Michael from his fuel tank. That left the two of them comparing notes on their experiment as First Aid scampered off to fetch the scientist some energon.


End file.
